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vampiricgf · 14 days

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☆ WOE TO THE LAMB THAT DISPUTES THE WOLF

ᝰ A silly bet of who can outrun whom in the pitch dark woods, just remember to the victor go the spoils (repost from old account)

f!reader, predator/prey, dry humping, blood drinking, fear play, outdoor sex

You knew it had been cocky the moment the words left your mouth, floating through the air like motes of dust in the wind but your pride would never allow you to snatch them back, keep them held tight against your chest in denial.

There was no room for anything to matter but the pounding of your feet against the dirt. Not the sharp sting of branches catching at your arms, pulling light tears in the flesh, nor the growing kaleidoscope of bruises on your legs from tripping over yourself and various roots as you tore through the small wood surrounding Rivington.

Adrenaline, all encompassing like a wave bettering you against rocks, meant you paid little attention to these crucial slip ups.

The wolf at your back was drawing ever closer.

Despite being soundless in shadow the mere suggestion of his presence was unrelenting, never allowing even a moment of stillness. You had used an elixir of elven elegance just attempting to stay ahead but you could feel your stamina depleting from running at a consistently breakneck pace ever since.

Yet you pushed on, knowing you had to be close to the agreed upon finish line.

It had been all manner of foolishness to make a bet with a vampire on who could outhunt whom under the cover of night. Seeing the sly grin paint his face should have told you the victor would be predetermined the moment you both set your sights on each other. But alas your curse to bear was believing even for a second that diligent training could trump supernatural ability.

A hunter was only as good as their weapon, and only as reliable as their senses.

Right now you have neither in any abundance.

He’d even agreed to give you a head start, which had only inflamed your ego at the beginning but now you were grateful for the pity. It had been generous, given the fact that you’re outclassed in terms of sheer speed and accuracy.

All the advantages you believed you had burned away, crumbling like the ashes of ignited paper, when you'd been forced to deviate from the path you’d set in your mind. It was artful, the way he directed you by making you believe he was about to lunge out at you from the dense pockets of foliage, baited you with sounds that disgusted his location, forced your mind to play nasty little tricks on you, and you played the dutiful mouse being led through the maze.

Fear wasn’t anything foreign to you, and while you knew rationally that this was simply sick fun, the primal part of your brain failed to grasp the message. And he used that to his full advantage.

A chorus of victorious laughter broke your fragile concentration, seeming to come from your left flank and the world went sideways in a fraction of a second.

Even though he'd held back it did little to mitigate the force of impact, nor the face full of dirt you got as he pinned one arm behind your back with his breath fanning the back of your neck. It sent shivers like shockwaves down your spine as his teeth grazed the shell of your ear.

“Look what I caught-”

You flinched involuntarily but the automatic response didn't mask how your thigh muscles squeezed, something he felt without a doubt as he straddled you.

His smug aura emanated enough that you didn't need to see him to know he was grinning, could feel the way his fingers twitched like live wires as he held you fast.

“You win,” you gasp out, wriggling in his hold but meeting light resistance.

You still upon feeling his nose nuzzle downward against your neck, the tiniest whimper escaping your lips as his tongue swipes across your sweat damp skin. The groan he lets out at the taste is enough to nearly make you cum on the spot.

"And what do I get for my victory?”

Your lungs seize in your chest, a burning bloom of embarrassment and desire that grasp hold of your tongue in a vice grip.

He gives you just enough slack and room to turn over on your back before grabbing your hands, lacing your fingers together in a choking clasp. “To the victor go the spoils, isn't that right?”

It's like the world is suddenly cast immobile in rich, mellow amber; a perfectly frozen diagram of a beast of myth right before its jaws open wide enough to swallow the world.

The way his pupils dilate until only a thin ring of crimson is present expands in your vision until it's all you can see, all that is present coupled with the brutal hammering of your pulse that you know is audible to him.

The drag of his tongue against his teeth plays out before you in a slow crawl, his movements like seeping honey and as your adrenaline reaches its crescendo his lips press against yours.

Cold, frenzied, sloppy.

It's a kiss made of teeth, tongues, and spit as his hips grind against you and your fingers claw at the hem of his shirt. You can't help but whine into his mouth, and every noise is swallowed down like fine vintage as he pushes icy hands beneath your shirt, shamelessly groping the planes of your flesh, kneading at your breasts. It isn't long before he's nearly panting over you, pressing his erection against your clothed cunt so firmly it robs you of breath yet again.

Under the ever watchful gaze of the trees you're both stripped of shirts, his lips mapping the contours of your throat as if he hasn't traveled the road a thousand times, as if he couldn't find your veins blinded.

You are the feast table he needs no guidance towards.

In the throes of delirium you almost don't feel the initial pinpricks of his fangs until the pain blossoms as they're driven further through layers of skin, the wounds widening to accommodate and relinquish a greater flow of the red gold that floods his mouth and drowns his tongue.

When his lips close around the wound to suck your hips buck up against him, fingers sinking into the hardness of his shoulder blades as you two rut in the dirt: a mass of sweat, blood, and arousal so primitive it only heightens the obscenity.

His own hands hold you steady as he basks in every touch from you and every movement of your hips, nearly garbled whimpers against your neck and you can tell just the friction alone has him teetering on the edge.

Through the euphoric haze a wicked thought takes root in your mind as your hand slides down between your bodies, caressing him through his trousers and coaxing him to a premature end.

You feel his fingers tightening in your hair, a subtle plea that you're quick to answer, the motion of your hand becoming urgent as he grinds against your palm and moans shamelessly into the now numb patch of flesh at the side of your throat.

When you feel the little quakes and shivers racking his body, the warmth spreading against the fabric, and the hushed garble of your name you know it's not he who has won.

In a kiss drenched in the second hand taste of your own blood you can't help the self satisfied grin that overtakes your lips.

In the smattering of moonlight shot through gaps in the branches you relish in your small victory, already eager to challenge him again.

#astarion smut #astarion x reader #astarion bg3 #astarion x you #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #txt ☆ˎˊ˗

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

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Some demon brothers in heat because I'm silly today

Mammon, Asmo, Belphegor

GNreader, humping, mention of crempie, oral (giving);; rough sex;;

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

-A needy boy. That's it.

-It's just so terribly embarrassing to actually approach you and say how bad he wants to fuck you, so instead he would just cling to you as always, begging to spend some time in his room.

-And he really was trying to control himself, wishing for nothing more but for some peace that your presence always brings in his soul, yet poor demon didn't realize today your smell and the look of your body would be actually more triggering that soothing.

-So of course everything ended up with you being pinned to the floor as he just hump your leg like some kind of puppy, sobbing and whining about how sorry he is.

-Well, maybe this kind of humiliation was even more arousing for him, as Mammon cum surprisingly quick, groaning as his dick was still rock hard, throbbing even more now. So now it's time for something more than your knee.

-Really, really tries to be gentle, especially in the beginning, but when you start moaning like that, wrapping your legs around his waist, he loses the last pieces of sanity, almost pounding you into the carpet with such aggressive thrust.

-And if usually he tries to be more quiet in bed, today he's loud af, moaning and whimpering right in your ear about how sorry he is and how good you feel, that he just can't stop. + even more possessive, holding hands and hugging with you, and you already lost count how many times he kissed you.

-Cause even in such a state Mammon still can't stop thinking about your feelings too, as only your pleased moans can bring him to the edge.

-Ok but he just can use his connection to spend such a hard day with a few succubus and incubus..

-Yet he's here, kissing you deeply as his tongue plays with you, whining in your mouth every time your arms touch his dick. You're such a lovely doll, obey so easily when he asks you for some help..! ♡

-Of course he's waiting to be pampered, even when he's the one who's in need here. But isn't it logical? Such a beauty, and only for you today, of course you need to do anything as a thanks for this devilish blessing!

-But even when everything start like a small ask to jerk him off, then to suck his dick, quickly it's turn into some heated sex as Asmo can't stop thrusting in you just in just perfect pace, making you lose your mind absolutely, maybe even more than he's in his heat.

-Cause as avatar of Lust he knows perfectly how to delight anyone, and especially his most precious human too..! And mutual pleasure feels even more good, actually, as now he's pushing you for another round, and another, and another..

-Demon who's thinking about something sinful most of the time.. Of course he has one of the best stamina, hiding pretty wild energy in this fragile body that he would open just for you today.

-And even when you start sobbing, telling it's your limit, Asmo's whisper brings you back. Just a little bit more.. It's just a siren's call, yet you fall into this trap again, letting him use your body for the whole night.

-The lazy one.

-Just which one of you two are actually in heat - you or him?! Cause it's more like you're the one who wants everything, bouncing on his dick like that, while he's just laying here, watching lazily and making teasing comments about how tight you're already.

-But don't think that means you can be in charge here, as a few right words and looks from Belphie are enough to make you feel absolutely under his control, even if he's still just yawning in bed and not even trying to manhandle you or something.

-Cause he's surprisingly good at holding back his wild urge, wanting to bring you almost in the same state before something more interesting. Small tickles of his fingers on your body, some slow play with your nipples and dirty talking - the contact between his pretty cold touches and this heat between your thighs as you almost jump on his hips at a rapid pace is mind shattering..

-And only when you would start sobbing, asking him for something more as your legs get too sore to move in needed place, only after you beg him good, Belphegor would change position, surprisingly quickly get up and push you in the mattress for someone who was almost asleep all this time.

-Well, but you didn't think he would actually be so lazy the whole time? Now it's time to show you where he can put all this stored energy, so be prepared to be absolutely unable to walk for a few days.

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

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Pressed Periwinkles

characters: scaramouche, venti, zhongli, raiden shogun (ei), yae miko, yelan, al haitham, kamisato ayato

cw(s) : none. just some very much needed comfort and fluff to all my stressed birdies. there... maybe some implications but don't worry your pretty head over it and enjoy being spoiled and spoiling them <3

──⚝ scaramouche

Whenever something troubles Scaramouche, he seeks you out to press his ear to your chest and listen to you heartbeat. If you were to ever bring it up to him once he's recovered although, he'd never admit to literally have knelt for hours suffocating you in his embrace. Not like it affects him at all, he could stay in the position for days and weeks if he wanted, the only detriment would be you (ugh, the fragility of the mortal body). You cannot see his expression in moments like those but you feel every shift of emotions through the strength in his grip waxing and waning or from how closer and closer he buries his face in your clothes, desperate to not lose the timbre of your heart. Not even the hymns of the winds, streams, birds or fairies would rival to the simple marching of your soul ; the simple fact of your existence. He would be betraying himself if he never admitted to feeling envious of you, how lucky you were to be gifted with such a beautiful heart. His thoughts would wander to days long past, days painted in regret and blood, grip tensing so much it causes you pain but then, as if sensing his distress you run your hand through locks of the deep night, your free hand securing him and he curses himself. Wanting to slap the fool in him for even having that thought — because it is not the heart itself that is beautiful, it is the bearer and, he vows to eternalize its blessed prance.

Scaramouche is not a verbal person in terms of comfort, thus, his care is shown through the protective embrace he engulfs you in ; now, close to where his heart is supposed to be. It's a re-confirmation of your position, it's a reminder of your power over him, it's a beckoning that says—just say the word and I'll bring the world down to its knees. You hear it, loud and lucid and it intimidates you a little. The awareness that you hold such power over the Harbinger, over this being neither human nor divine, capable of any command leaving your lips — the absence of a heartbeat from such proximity intensifies your shudder. Worse, you feel the unadulterated sincerity behind this silent declaration. Doubt bubbles in your soul, were you even deserving of such love? Wouldn't it be just using Scaramouche if you were to confide? A stolen look to his eyes has you halt, taken aback by the significance barely contained in those cryptic orbs and you understand. Not uttering a syllable yet, you merely shuffle closer for ; what response proves itself appropriate to the man who gazes at you like you're the soul centerpiece of his world, rivaled by nothing bar the confines of it?

──⚝ venti

Venti knows you're feeling under-the-weather even before you do, all it takes is for you to release the first sigh after reaching home and he's already cradling and cooing you. You can't even find it in yourself to be bemused, melting in the bard's lulling embrace, the beat of the rocking of his body in symphony to the soothing lyrics leaving his lips. You let yourself sink further in that cocoon, far, far from the worries that were chasing you. For you know that as long as Venti's here, everything will be fine. If you're in the mood to rant, he's just the perfect person for it! No kidding, he matches every disbelief laced around your sentences, the dripping sarcasm and "can you believe this person's audacity?!" What you don't know is that he knows what/who's troubling you way beforehand (he's the wind, silly) but, Venti will still listen and be bewildered, annoyed, mad. His carefree smile hiding the schemes brewing in his head to teach annoyances a lesson. You'd never be notified of this shift of attitude though, much too smothered in his pampering.

“My dear Cecilia, why do you fret? You will get through it all, just like all the times before and then, you'll look back, smile and be proud of yourself. So stop worrying about something you've already won!”

And when he's certain you've drifted off to the land of dreams, he lets the muscles of his face relax, the shine of his emerald orbs fade in the slightest. The zephyrs cease their tunes and his grip tenses, firms and borders on desperation. He clings to you as if you'd be blown away like the dandelion seeds should he loosen his hold, he doesn't dare to think of that outcome. All things will wear out by the flow of time, even the strongest Cecilia will oneday take the wind's hand. He knows and Celestia, does he hate it. Despite the knowledge that only serves to burden him, he still indulges ; in hopes that you wouldn't leave him just yet, not so soon, not so suddenly. These momentary wisps of solace keep him sane : the warmth of your body molding in with his, your steady breaths and small mumbles of incoherence — all reminders that no, you're right here, safe in his arms.

So the winds rest, too.

──⚝ zhongli

Zhongli is his own genre when it comes to comfort. It's unpredictable yet never unwelcomed. There's a silver of sophisticated charm lining his actions, a touch of solemnity as you walk under falling autumn leaves arm in arm. Zhongli is not one to let any gesture of affection go to waste, specially if it were to be spectated upon by prying eyes. He considers every touch, every word and every moment shared with you to be exceptional. This sentiment materializes dutifully, too. You cannot think of a single memory with him proven trivial and neither can he with you. Liyue Harbor looks up to you two's unalloyed affections, too. Elders often seen smiling coyly, reminiscing their youthful day as children stare doe-eyed in curiosity, later re-enacting (or trying to) how tenderly the Consultant took your hand to his lips while playing house. You're the role-model couple of the City of Contracts, often analogized with the tale of the late Rex Lapis and his beloved and, whenever someone would bring the legend up, you two would share a shining gaze holding secrets between you two solely which instantly has the speaker feel perplexed. You two would simply dismiss it with the same smile and urge them to continue their tangent.

You, who always covers up Zhongli's blunders of leaving his wallet. Your disappointed sigh and stare doing nothing as he listens to your lectures, borderline enjoying the fiesty side of you. Arguments don't even occur between you two because of the level of mutual understanding you have with each other. You both value privacy, therefore, only show vulnerability in each other's sole company. Zhongli always cradles you in the firmest, safest embrace when your nightmares get too graphic to bear ; wiping your tears and whispering to you the tales of the days the Seelies pranced around every inch of Teyvat and the Moon Sisters would bless the land with their light. Every time, you drift away to sweet dreams of those days of peace. You love to comb and braid his hair, humming forgotten tunes as you do so and Zhongli never feels more at peace. At times like these, it's as if you're in your own little world of boundless serenity, safe from both the mortal and divine's scrutiny.

──⚝ raiden shogun (ei)

To Ei, you're the reason achieving Eternity is so important, so crucial. You're the reason she pushes through despite her grief, loneliness and despair. It's hardwired in the Shogun's constitution, too ; Eternity and You are beside each other. You're the lone candle lightening her darkened euthymia, one she will not allow to wane. Being the soul fuel of her actions might be a little bit overwhelming sometimes. Since she's always putting you before herself, you have to be the one to anchor her to the present and remind her that she's just as (if not more) important. Ei loves you, but you love her, too. It pains you to see her suppress so much pain, it frustrates you that she's not even giving herself the minimum care and how constantly runs from her trauma instead of learning to grow from it.

Which is why, sometimes it has to be her that's pulled away from her meditation to your arms, it has to be her laying on your lap with a hand loosening her braid in an inclining to let go, even just for an hour or so. Sometimes, she needs to forget about everything else and keep her attention on you as you lecture her non-stop. Often times, it flies over her head due to her stubbornness but since it's you... she tries her best. Eternity could wait, the Heavenly Principles be damned, right now, all that mattered was her and you.

──⚝ yae miko

You find it a little unfair, how the kitsune understands you even better than you do yourself. She effortlessly picks up on the slightest changes of your quirks to reach the conclusion that something is wrong. Once she's certain, she'd call you over to her side and pull you to her lap as a shrine maiden prepares tea. A stack of light novels set beside her along with all your favourite treats and you know you're up for a night of pampering and cooing. Your frustrations disappear quicker than electro seelies as she reads aloud the words to you in that smooth voice of hers, other hand occasionally shifting between running it through your hair or along your body and holding various treats for you to taste. When the night has deepened, the stack of light novels finished with and the lantern light has dimmed, she finally inquires of what (or who) exactly troubles you — if you haven't fallen asleep by then already. You, at rare times, want to refute to all her babying ; you cannot be blamed either, having Yae Miko's undivided attention can get a little overwhelming sometimes but the resistance is extinguished just as soon when you remember why you get this exquisite treatment. She's wasted no breath making it clear, too.

Miko loves both your rebellious spirit and how well you take it all. To her, you're just the perfect partner to get through a dragging existence. There's not much she demands of you either ; you just have to be by her side when she calls you (which is..a lot, frankly) and let her take the lead. It's peak entertainment for Miko as she spies the green gazes from her peripheral, aww, look how envious everyone is of you two! While she finds mild entertainment in jealousy of other people, that cannot be said when the monster decides to probe her, too. Kitsunes are territorial and regardless of how much of a refined one Yae Miko is, she's still not completely immune to it. No one will know of these irritating feelings bubbling in her chest unless she wills it. For the most part, she's chill because, she of all people would know that a random mortal is no threat to her or the trust you two share. But do not be mistaken : should an actual threat occur, she'll make it very clear to who you belong to.

──⚝ yelan

Yelan does not even know where to start when it comes to you and neither does she know where to put an end. Yelan despises sweets, you cannot go a day without that additional dose of serotonin ; she prefers chillies in everything and you cry if there's extra dash of pepper in the curry ; Yelan dances with the danger, you love your inner peace more than anything and yet, somehow, both of you fit together like soulmates. It stirs mixed reactions among people, too. Some think you're undeniably cute together while others raise their eyebrows in appraisal. She could care less, but she knows that you care a lot about other people's opinions so, she tries her best so that you'd remain innocent from their unnecessary judgement. It isn't difficult for her either to pull the strings and everything, benefits of being in the shadow.

There's much people are ignorant to, for example, how ruthless you can get with your words should anyone insult your loved ones, how unfairly good you handle bitter things, how unafraid you're of breaking the rules should the occasion call for it and she could go on. Her favourite memory with you would always be that time a handful of nosy people were jabbing at your relationship with her, even going as far as to throw suggestive comments at you right in front of her. Trivial matters such as this don't bother Yelan on normal occasions but due to her mood being already sour that day she lost her temper, how dare they? She was one breath away from causing a carnage until you stopped her, looked them dead in the eye, pulled her to press a kiss just shy of her lips and told them to pollute the air somewhere else — the memory still makes her swoon. Of course, she didn't waste the opportunity to join in, leaning to your already flushed ear to whisper loud and intended for others to hear, "You missed, darling."

(Those idiots never bothered you two again.)

──⚝ al haitham

Al Haitham who is like your personal bed from how often you fall asleep sitting on his lap. You don't need to worry about falling or the cold because he never loosens his hold of you, pulling his cape over your form like a cocoon when he notices your shivers. The intimacy is wordless yet conveys so much more than words could hope to express. It's such a win-win for him, too. He gets to hold you while reading in peace? To say he loves it would be an understatement. People also tend to bother him less when they notice this act of intimacy— and by people, he means his annoying roommate who but gags everytime he sees you draped over Al Haitham and him holding you like you're the most precious thing in Teyvat.

(Kaveh's just salty because he's single and lonely.)

There's another thing Al Haitham adores, looks forward to even ; lazy mornings with you, plus points if it's raining and none of you can go to work. Even if you insist on going out in that weather, there is no way the Scribe would allow it. Trapping you in his strong arms and being so affectionate you have to check if it really is the Al Haitham or not. The Akademiya won't be obliterated if you two skip— took a break for one day, come on, love. Your resolve would break pretty soon, too. How can it not when he's being so cutely clingy? So you two stay in and ruminate the remnants of your night's dreams in each others arms, the pitter-patters of rain and rumbles of thunder but background noise. For a spilt second, Al Haitham remembers the two keys still in his possession and the door being locked : aha, no doubt his roommate would have a lot to say (scream) about that. He notices your shuffles and a quiet ‘what's wrong?’ which he dismisses through a chaste kiss atop your head and beckoning to return to sleep.

──⚝ kamisato ayato

It's basically hardwired in Ayato's brain to seek you out when things get a little too strenuous. He likes to lay his head on your lap and just... enjoy the feeling of your skillful hands combing through his hair, hum him a song too, won't you? He's all yours to spoil. In this position, probably the only thing that would make him get up is if the Kamisato Estate caught fire. You shower him in all the affection you have to offer without hesitation, your way of saying thank you for everything, thank you for your hard work.

Since Ayato was deprived of the fancies of an ordinary child, he has an affinity for mischief and the twisted entertainment from rule-breaking. Nothing would make him love you more if you were to just randomly sneak in his office and whisk him away for some minutes. Running away from his duties wouldn't lessen them, he's aware. But just the thrill that comes from these little rendezvous washes away his fatigue and lethargy. It's both of your little secret, it's dangerous and frankly just plain indulgence. That would never stop him taking your hand and smiling like a teenager in love every time he hears you sing, let's run away?

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wanderingelvis · 11 months

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I just wanna say I love your innocent reader stories! Though, in the last one, when Elvis calls her his baby and talks about things like rocking her to sleep...it just makes me picture innocent reader slipping into little/babyspace after Elvis gets mad at her like he did. Just a thought.

Thank you so much for this - this is an alternate ending to THIS request, where Innocent F!Reader tries to prove she's not so innocent and it backfires, leading Elvis to show her what her first orgasm is like, but it gets all a bit too much.

🧚 Masterlist 🧚

Word Count: 1,010

Pairing: 70s Elvis x Innocent!Little!F!Reader

Warnings: Little lifestyle, mentions of orgasming

All the emotions of the night, from Elvis getting mad at you, to you having your very first orgasm, all became just a little too much for you to process as you laid on Elvis' chest in the back of the limousine.

You felt yourself beginning to slip into a smaller headspace, something you did rarely but it always seemed to happen as a reaction to being overwhelmed and anxious. You were just too little to have all those big thoughts and feelings, you couldn't do it, so you felt yourself naturally feeling smaller.

"You did so good honey, so good," Elvis soothed, petting your hair gently, which only made you feel those fuzzy feelings even more.

You squirmed in his lap, you just felt so confused. He'd been so angry with you and suddenly he was being so attentive and sweet and it was hard to keep up with.

"A-Are you still mad at me Da-," You managed to stop yourself before you let slip the name you really wanted to call Elvis, you were just nervous that he'd react badly to your headspace slipping, but Elvis had picked up on the slip nonetheless.

You knew deep down you were just being silly, Elvis had never been mad at you for regressing, only ever supportive, but with the nights events being what they were, you were in no fit state to make sense of anything, you needed your Daddy to do that for you.

And as soon as Elvis heard you almost call him Daddy, he knew he should've realised you were susceptible to this, that something as overstimulating as having you orgasm for the first time on his leg as he taunted you would send you into overdrive.

You decided that you couldn't trust yourself to speak after almost calling the man that was lovingly rubbing your tummy as you sat on his lap in the backseat of the lavish limousine, Daddy, so you began to instinctively chew on your fingers, a bad habit that you'd adopted whenever you were feeling anxious or fuzzy.

And as soon as your fingertips met your soft pink lips, that was enough confirmation for Elvis that your headspace had dropped and that he was now not only dealing with an overwhelmed little thing that had just had her first orgasm, but one that was now in a fragile headspace that needed to be handled with nothing but love.

"Oh princess, I ain't mad atchu, could never be mad atchu after you were such a good girl fr'me." Elvis soothed, pressing a kiss atop your head before tilting his head to look down at you and check on you. "You were a really good girl, weren't you?"

You nodded slowly, as you faced the rest of the car, away from Elvis as you rested your back to his chest, all the while he had his head tilted down so he was still able to observe your expression even if you couldn't reciprocate.

You blinked absentmindedly, as if you were in some sort of trance or a haze as you continued to chew on your fingers.

Elvis knew you better than you knew yourself at times and he knew that you were subconsciously trying to make your head all cloudy and little so that you were able to balance out the overwhelming amounts of thoughts and feelings you'd just experienced moments prior.

"Tha's right honey, a real good girl," Elvis praised as he paused before deciding to confirm for sure if you'd dropped. "Is my princess feelin' fuzzy hm?"

You nodded albeit still absentmindedly, confirming Elvis' suspicions. "Fuzzy head Daddy." You said softly, barely audible as you momentarily stopped chewing and sucking on your fingers.

"I know baby, Daddy's gotchu." Elvis said, kissing your cheek. He gently took his large, calloused hand and closed it around your soft, small one, prying your fingers from your mouth which caused a small whine to leave your lips. "Baby's gon' get sick if ya keep on suckin' yer fingers like that, you know I can't let that happen, don't ya?" Elvis said, and you nodded compliantly, knowing that Daddy knows best.

The drive continued for a while longer, your eyelids becoming heavy and your whole body sinking into Elvis', as your sleepy state combined with your little headspace took its toll.

"Daddy?" You mumbled softly, turning your body and tilting your chin up to look at the man you so lovingly adored and practically worshipped.

Elvis hummed in response, smiling lazily down at you.

"Are we nearly home Daddy?" You said with a slight needy whine in your tone, not a bratty one, but just out of exhaustion.

"Soon my little love, soon. And when we get home, d'ya know what Daddy's gon' do t'ya, hm?" Elvis said, letting his finger trace your hairline, sending shivers through all down your spine and making you lean into him all the more.

You could barely muster up the energy to respond, but you managed to, in the form of the tiniest shake of your head.

"Daddy's gon' getchu outta this pretty lil' dress and into yer favourite pajamas, tha's right honey, the ones with the lil' cartoon horses on'em, and then Daddy's gon' find yer favourite toy bunny for yer to go to bed with, then Daddy's gon' make sure yer all nice and cosy in bed with Daddy so you can fall asleep and dream about all yer favourite things because you've been such a good girl for Daddy durin' this ride home." Elvis hushed as you were almost asleep in his strong arms already.

Previously, in anticipation of your headspace dropping, you and Elvis had made a box for occasions exactly like this, with various items that you loved and cherished all packed into it, to be used for when you were feeling little, like your treasured stuffed bunny and your choice of pajamas, dresses, toys and books.

"How does that sound hey princess?" Elvis said.

"Luff you Daddy." You babbled quietly, nuzzling into Elvis' chest as it vibrated as he chuckled at your adorable little state.

"Love you too baby, Daddy loves you too."

taglist: @prompted-wordsmith @vintagegirl2005 @imaginationlast @librafilms @presleyenterprise @wolywolymoley @billhaderstan420 @ccab @elvispresleywife @hollbunn @sassanoe @eliseinmemphis @elvisflowerchild @slimerspengler @meetmeatyourworst @lettersfromvenus @satninroses @doll-elvis @animalloverthingsss @lokislittlepup @woniipii @mooodyblue @dandelionxbby @kxnnxy @that-hotdog @lana-4life @littleloveysworld @domaniquessidehoe

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lady-ashfade · 8 months

Text

Day 4 Of Fictober

Vampire Au

Yandere!VampPrince!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Human!Reader, X Platonic!Yandere!Vamp!Queen!Rhaenrya Targaryen

Ask: can I request yan vampire Jace? And platonic Yan Rhaenyra.

Hope you like it, my little darlings. I worked really hard on this.

Warnings: Kidnapping, ropes!being tied up, Collars, Blood, Blood drinking, Yandere tendencies, Controlling behavior, slight!primal chase, Over all some dark themes, and vamps having lightning speed.

The rough ground made your feet ache as you raced through the woods without shoes on your feet. Mud stuck to the ends of your feet and the rocks hurt to step on but you had no choice but to. There was no path, no grass patches to step on that weren’t covered in sticks and other small things. It seemed as even the trees were against you every turn you took with another one making you almost crash into it. Panting you tried to keep the ends of your dress from getting caught on anything else so it wouldn’t slow you down.

The blue dress you had on has tares and dirt all over it. It was ruined. Steaming from your eyes and down to your cheeks were tears of fear, of death and the thing chasing you. The night was always scary for you since childhood with stories of monsters that only come out in the dark. Growing up you forgot all about those stories and feared your own kind or the silence that came along with the stars. Now you wished to be back at home and afraid of nothing.

Focus. You had to just focus on getting away and safely out of the woods to find someone to help. Screaming you called for help for anyone to hear you, hoping at least one person would.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen dear,” your legs hit something and your body came chasing down on the ground and your body ached at the pressure. A sinking feeling made your stomach made you feel like puking out your insides. From the ground you looked up to the man you had been running from. Red eyes stared down at you, they stood out in the darkness from their glow.

“Please- Let me go, I’ll never come back.” Sobbing you back up with your legs kicking and arms crawling backwards. The beast only titled his head and watches you closely as you plead for your little life.

“But that’s not what I want,” the bark of the tree hits your back and makes you itchy. He could hear your breath so loudly as your chest raises up and down at a rapid pace. Your eyes full of terror, your body tensed up at the fear of death, and the smell of sweet blood coming from your veins. Pushing out of his gums his fangs emerged.

“You’ll stay here forever, with me- With our family. I never expected you to be a human but, I’ll take anything.” As he inches closer you tried to get away from him, to run free. But you had no chance and his speed bet you to it and pinned you against the tree with force. His hands squeezed your wrists and you already felt them bruise.

“Silly little human, running from a prince?” His head lowered to your neck and you tried to fight it but he wasn’t moving. “I can- I will give you everything you deserve. Just sit still and this will be over soon” his lips kissed his favorite area on your neck to prepare you for what he was about to do.

You whined and struggled against his hold and cried you heart out. “Please.” You sob but he only smirked at your small voice. He knew humans were weak and fragile but you were so much different then all the humans he’s killed. So much sweeter, so much prettier and warm. Maybe that’s why you two were destined to be together because he could protective you from everyone else.

His eyes flashed before black started to cover the glow, his mouth opened with a wicked smile.

“It’ll be only a bite,” your neck was pushed to the side and taken into a tight grip as you whimpered. “Goodnight, my darling.” He spoke before a sharp pain in your neck made you cry in pain. You could feel the blood leaving your veins and you started to get lightheaded after a few seconds of him sucking aggressively. Then your mind started to shut down and your eyes closed slowly, your body giving up and you passed out.

It felt so cold.

A stone floor against your legs and feet made you toss awake from your sleep. The moment you were awake you could feel the aching feeling in your head and your body feeling too tired to move. Moaning you open your eyes and blink at the lit up room with nothing around you, it looked like a cell. You tired to call out for help but your voice gave out and felt raspy. A knock at the door made you jump out of your skin and move back.

“Stop screaming.” A male voice that was deep called from the other side. The sound of the lock being fiddled with made you looked around the room once more to see if you could find anything. So you cling your fists together in fear.

When the door opened two men with the dark eyes and a guard like outfit that matched each others stepped into view. In fear you push yourself back, “Queen says not to hurt you, so don’t be afraid.” The taller one smiled and the other took out rope from his belt. No matter how much you plead you couldn’t get out of their inhuman grip and hold.

The rope on your hands scratched your wrists as they pull you out of the cell and into the hallways. After a while you realize it was a castle you were in and a beautiful one at that, but it was much darker then anything you’d been in. Everything was red or black and the paintings creeped you out.

As soon as you came to a stop your throat began to close and your stomach became sick. When the doors opened you took a glance in the room that opened. A large room with pillars, a red carpet leaning up and the most important part. A Throne. Sat on top of the throne was a beautiful woman with pale skin and with the whites hair you’ve ever seen. You knew those eyes.

Just like his.

“Bring her forward.” Her voice echoed off the walls and the men obliged and tugged you forward. You couldn’t move at all as her eyes had broken you. The woman watched as they tugged you against and you pulled against their hold and tried to get away. A poor little thing you were. You looked so scared and hurt, even if you were so weak from having your blood drained.

“Pull her again and I’ll have you beheaded.” You all stoped and look at the woman on the throne. They had mentioned a “Queen” earlier and her place… it was her. “Now, little one. Walk to me.” She waves you over but her voice deepens at the command. Looking at the two guards you pull your rope away from them and take liberty to do it on you own. So you walked to her and stop a few feet away from her. You looked at the ground and to afraid to meet her eyes.

“I apologize for my sons actions…He’s never smelled your blood before, but I can promise you now he’ll be well behaved.” Stepping back as you saw her shadows stand up off her set. She sighed and walked down with her dress in her hands.

“You’re very beautiful, a fine mate for my son. A queen to replace me one day.” Your looked at her and your cheek was instantly cupped. You didn’t even see her move to you until you looked up. She could hear your heartbeat speed up and your veins pulse. It made her smile.

“He will never hurt you again. Just needed to claim you is all he did.” She rubbed your skin sweetly and you felt like mush. “Sorry for keeping you in a cell, I’m having everything prepared for you.” Her hands came down to rip the ropes off of you so hard they snapped.

“You’ll learn to love it here, with us.” Gasping your neck was grabbed ever so lightly and something cold pressed against the skin. You heard metal hit each other and a snap at the back of your neck. Your throat felt almost suffocated at the new feeling, “What-” you tried to speak but she hushed you by putting her finger on your lips, her nails so sharp.

“Silver suits you well, and red gems are beautiful as well.” You moved up to touch the thing around your neck in a panic. She watched your eyes tear up and heavy breaths leave your lips. “Don’t look so sad.” She looked over at the servants in the corner. “Get her something to eat.” And they ran off quickly.

You tried to run it all over in your head and it was too overwhelming that you couldn’t breath. You started to cry and grab onto the air and your chest for relief.

“What have you done?”

His voice made you turn and you fell to your knees, he was quick to be at your side within less then a second to catch you. “Go- Let me go.” He could barely understand your breathless words but he could guess them by the way you tried to break free.

“Awe, don’t cry. My human is too pretty to cry,” his fingers wiped away your tears and you closed your eyes not to get them scraped by his nails. He only smiled and pushes you into his chest. “You can get used to it, I’ll get you everything you want…” he leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re mine now.”

#jacaerys velaryon #yandere rhaenrya targaryen x reader #yandere jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #rhaenrya targaryen x reader #yandere house targaryen x reader #yandere house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #yandere house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #yandere jacaerys valaryon #yandere rhaenyra targaryen x reader #yandere rhaenrya targaryen #fictober #fictober 2023

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h4venpha · 11 months

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𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐯𝐚𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐜𝐬 𓂃 ⟡

uncanny vash x reader

cw: body horror (not rlly but just in case)

a/n: i’ve seen multiple drawings/hcs on uncanny vash so this is me mushing them all together sorry (this is slightly creature vash as well!)

- i feel like most uncanny vash hcs are more like.. creature vash hcs

- uncanny vash: okay he’s fucking creepy guys. his pupils like voids surrounded by a shining blue iris, they’re kind of always unfocused even as you talk to him. he chitters, chirps, clicks, its scary sometimes when you wake up and hear him in the middle of the night.

- uncanny vash hums too, but its always to himself. like an almost silent humming, just a soft sweet tune rumbling from his chest as he stares at nothing in particular.

- he doesn’t talk much, truthfully. relies on vague gestures or small chirps. usually when he talks its with you, but still it mostly consists of short sentences and phrases.

- a lil self indulged but he can unhinge his jaw, drop it and there’s rows of jagged teeth. and it makes you a little scared to be honest, like shit what he could bite my face off while kissing me if he wanted to.

- but of course he doesnt. he locks his jaw back and gives you a sweet, innocent smile, just showing his front row of teeth. and the duality is so unsettling you think about his rows and rows of sharp teeth while you kiss him

- first time sleeping next to him and you genuinely thought you were going to die. like you’re falling asleep, just barely conscious, and this deep rumbling sound starts. your eyes flashing open and your heart is beating out of your fucking chest, eyes darting around for the source.

- and it’s your fucking monster, creature, boyfriend—THING sleeping. vash’s long ass arms and legs wrapped around your body while he purrs and clicks right in your ear.

- for the first couple of days, honestly, you can’t sleep. cause its so fucking loud and right next to you. it takes a while, but you end up getting used to it to the point where you can’t sleep without his silly noises. and he’s just happy to be there, he has no clue he purrs in his sleep.

- i feel like maybe he forgets how fragile humans are and he sometimes handles you too roughly. like he’s playing with your fingers and he tries to move them in a way that is impossible for a human, and you have to tell him that you don’t like that and its bad. so he learns to handle you more gently.

- uncanny vash doesn’t… really understand love. at least not in the same way humans do, like he just does not get what kissing does or hand holding, he likes to express his love in very different forms.

- he likes keeping you close to him at all times. now im kinda projecting my “normal” vash hcs but hear me out. you’re like the shiny rock he found and he just keeps you in his pocket because mm so shiny, so pretty.

- he is very much possessive of his shiny rock indeed. keeping his abnormally large hand on your back or your neck (you had to introduce hand holding to him.)

- love bites are his thing! maybe not necessarily leaving marks, but the feeling of your flesh in between his very much dangerous teeth gives him butterflies!! please let him nibble on you

#h4venpha #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun maximum #trigun 1998 #trigun 2023 #vash fluff #vash headcanons #trigun vash #vash x you #vash x y/n #vash x reader #uncanny vash #trigun uncanny vash #vash scenario #vash imagines #vash imagine #creature vash

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simplyreveries · 5 months

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hii!! i just found your blog and the writings are all so good?!! can i request lilia, riddle, and epel with a yuu/mc that’s shorter than them? if it’s not ok you can ignore this!! tysmm(≧∀≦) and have a nice day!!!

i sometimes forget im the same height as riddle fkljd

lilia vanrouge

lilia is always teasing you about it even if it's only like… you’re shorter by an inch or two. he’s playfully telling you how cute and small you are in comparison to him; he tells you he thinks you're such a fragile human. he loves to hug you and bury his face in your hair, he’ll coo to you as he playfully rocks you side to side, it’s sweet.

sometimes he does make jokes regarding it and trust me they're so bad that its almost funny. (keyword almost, you just give him a deadpan stare). one time when no one could hear you saying something during class, lilia mentions "ah well i guess it can't be helped. after all, you're easy to overlook fufu". once again lilia says all these things like he isn't 5'1.

he enjoys giving you kisses on the cheek- but he also loves grabbing your face with his hands and lifting it up a little so he can give you a kiss on the forehead. then that would only turn into him attacking your face with kisses all over.

riddle rosehearts

he doesn't necessarily say anything about it, but he is quite happy to know you're someone that's actually shorter than him. besides, his dorm leader uniform usually gives him some extra height with the boots/heels he wears and has on most of the time. if you ever were to point that out, he'd give an amused look and be like "hm, i guess i am, arent i?" he feels so confident askdhahdj

one time after you did enough pleading with him to let him try on his heels that are a part of his uniform to feel that extra sense of height. he wouldn't admit it, but he found the whole thing to be quite silly and bit back some laughs.

riddle is a little content too with the fact that he has someone he looks down at when talking to instead of up… it hurts your neck yk. he has also developed a habit of petting your hair, especially when he’s in a soft and relaxed mood with you. he has a gentle smile on his face as he pets your hair as you're talking or whenever you come over to hug him.

epel felmier

im not even going to lie to you he is incredibly happy that you're shorter than him, it makes him just feel so good about himself… he is also genuinely surprised because it's not often he meets someone his age that's shorter than him. epel finally gets to feel confident and smug even if it's being a single INCH taller than you. you've once caught him standing next to you and discreetly doing the hand thing to see how much shorter you are than him haha.

even though he doesn't like the shoes vil gives him or makes him wear for pomefiore’s dress codes and such, he does like how much more of a boost it gives him to his height so that he can feel even that much taller than you, he’ll laugh and if you ask him why he’ll get closer to you and point that out.

he doesn't really take it kindly when other tall guys at nrc seem to tease you about it, he gets pretty defensive over you… like it's it's mostly because he's used to hearing it himself and knows how harsh people can be. he doesn't want to ever see you upset like him because of it too. he can't help but feel a little more protective over you.

#i love my short kings #twst #disney twst #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst wonderland #twst imagines #twisted wonderland #epel x reader #riddle x reader #lilia x reader

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 7 months

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gojo always seems to be off in a world of his own.

a little detached, you think. awkwardly long limbs constantly on the move, eyes stuck in a direction no one else can follow, a trajectory you don’t think even he knows. one blink and he's gone, just like that. too far ahead, too far above, even on the occasions he slows down and lets you catch up.

flimsy, maybe. like he’ll get carried away by the breeze when spring rolls around. like he’d turn into seafoam if you reached out and touched him.

satoru gojo is an anomaly, a blurry cluster of stars. or maybe more like a planet, big and blue, spinning around its own orbit, out of reach for every single star in the sky. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. but there's a softness to him when he's alone, you’ve come to learn; something that almost seems fragile, under the light of the moon, when the dark sky casts a shadow to obscure the contours of his face and no one’s around to notice if his smile isn't as big as it should be.

no one except for you, anyhow.

(you wonder if your presence is really that inconsequential to him.)

the beach is entirely empty, save for you and gojo. and summer’s ending, burning into little cinders, sputtering out before your very eyes.

tokyo is just beginning to dip its toes into autumn, the frost and chill, the hiss of the biting wind. the rusting of leaves, contaminated by a muddy hue, turned orange and brown and red beneath your heavy feet; littering the murky, empty streets of the rainy towns you cross. smelling of rotten apples and cinnamon, old books and burning wood.

it’s dark out. painted a thick gray, the sky is blanketed by heavy clouds, the entire world hidden behind that coating of wool. not a single sliver of starlight slips through, but there's a comfort to it, that feeling of being cocooned — safe and warm. a feeling cruelly stripped away by the nipping of the wind at your bare skin, but you digress.

everything smells of saltwater. a little like rotten fish. every breath you exhale turns into a flurry of vapour, mingling with the breezy seasalt of the open air; scattering away into the thin layer of mist all around you, until you can’t tell which is which.

and a sense of foreboding sinks into your veins.

(you look out at the jagged rocks piercing the surface of the sea, and dully wonder how they’d feel piercing your skin.)

something shivers, to your right. a flicker of movement, a barely audible chatter of teeth. and then, a white puff of vapour.

”man, it’s cold.”

gojo looks displeased.

only vaguely, a little crease between his eyebrows as he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his puffy baseball jacket. moving his feet a little, to warm up, snowy tufts of white hair tousled by the ocean breeze. his shoes are muddied by the wet sand, but he doesn't seem to mind.

a soft scoff leaves your lips, mostly harmless. maybe just a little smug. ”told you,” you click your tongue.

gojo whines. his sunglasses are starting to fog up, you notice. ”it’s still summer!” he pouts. ”i thought the sea would be nice and breezy!”

an unimpressed look smooths over your features. gracing him with a raise of your brow, you don’t fully manage to bite back the soft smile that follows. don’t even really attempt to.

it’s been a long day. evidently not long enough for gojo, seeing as he dragged you down here — even though he knew it meant missing the train you were supposed to board after successfully finishing your mission. he just had to get a closer look at the sea. just for a moment or two.

and he was insistent, persuasive. awfully whiny. assuring you that he’d be quick, that you wouldn’t miss the next one.

(what made you agree was simply the thought of spending some more time with him. not like you could ever tell him that, though.)

so there you stand. two juveniles, shivering and shifting from foot to foot, on the brink of nightfall, the edge of summertime. watching the sea stretch out into infinity, across the gap between this world and the next. a murky blue. easy on the eyes.

the noise of the sea fills your ears; waves crashing into sand, the whistling of the wind, seagulls crying out in the distance. and faraway, the chatter of a rattling train. a cacophony of sounds, buzzing and crackling, melting together. scattered across the beach are countless tiny white seashells, and the occasional green glimmer of drift glass — mermaids’ tears, shed for lost sailors, or so you’ve heard.

you wonder if the mermaids ever shed tears for lost sorcerers. probably not.

a shiver runs through your body, down to your cold hands, the tips of your fingers. reddish and itching for warmth. you tuck them into your pockets with a breathless exhale, still shaking a little.

in truth, you and gojo aren’t very close. you’d like to call him a friend, but it's kind of hard; when he's so enamored with suguru, so animated around shoko. with you, he always seems kind of —

stiff?

or maybe more like bored.

he doesn't laugh as loudly, doesn’t act as cocky. doesn't flaunt his knowledge on sorcery, and isn't as clingy as he is with the other two.

(you've never liked people touching you. it's not hard for others to discern, with how you flinch away when they get close.

still, you can't help but feel a little jealous when you see him tugging suguru and shoko around.)

deep within your chest, like a stunted seaweed, sprouts a tiny pang of disappointment. it’d be nice if you could grow closer, you think.

just a little would be fine.

”i like the sea.”

you turn your head.

gojo looks a little lost in thought. gaze trained on that expanding ocean before you, those splotches of blue and gray, the waves that bruise the edge of the sand. forlorn, maybe.

a hum buzzes in your dry throat. ”do you?”

”mm.” little white breaths slip from his lips. you wonder if they’d taste as salty as the air. ”’ts nice.”

a silence stretches out before you. delicate, like a sheet of glass. gojo picks at a piece of lint on his sleeve, and you shift from foot to foot. then he closes his eyes — a flutter of his dewy eyelashes.

”kinda makes you feel like everything’s about to end, huh?”

you look at him, but don’t see anything. a single glimpse of his closed eyes is all you gain from the glance you cast his way, but it’s not enough. not enough blue to fall into, no expression to savour. he looks the same as always.

but you’ve never heard his voice sound like this before.

”… end?”

and with that, they flicker open. there it is, you think. that vibrant blue. only to be obscured once more, when he turns to you fully, a smile playing at his glossy lips. ”don’t think so?”

a second passes. you look forward.

what you see is as follows: waves upon waves upon waves. the same blue and gray, as far as the eye can see. a sea big enough to drown each and every one of your worries.

something comes over you. a sensation of loneliness, something close to longing. a feeling of being rather lost. searching for something. your heart feels heavy, an anchor sunk to the bottom of your gut. little fish nipping at your ribcage. your eyes trail over those jagged rocks, again; the mermaids’ tears, that all-consuming sea, right in front of you. like it could open its maw and devour the world.

you think of the lost sailors.

(one jump and it’s all over.)

a breath. salty on your tongue. ”… i guess i get it,” you whisper. a soft murmur, mingling with the mist.

silence.

out of the corner of your eye, you see gojo shift. one moment he’s looking at you, the next he’s staring at the sea. in tandem, the two of you, stuck within that shade of blue. and you think he looks a little mesmerized, like he’s seeing something not even he can fully comprehend.

(maybe he just hasn’t had many chances to go to the beach before. something to do with being a clan kid, maybe?)

but then he clears his throat, hands moving to brush some sand off his puffy jacket and jeans. turning on his heel, hair ruffled by the breeze. he tries to sound chipper, but there’s something else there. you don’t know what it is, but…

”anyway,” he chirps. ”let’s go. we can still make it to the next train if we hurry.”

you look at him. his retreating figure, a head of white hair, surrounded by mist. a little like an apparition. then you turn towards the sea.

”… nah, that’s fine.”

a pause.

gojo stills, just about to take the first step forward. but you stay rooted in place; unmoving, staring at the blue before you, a deep longing reflected in your eyes.

”let’s stay a little longer,” you hum, unsure of where the words came from. but you know you aren’t ready for the moment to end, just yet. that you aren’t quite ready for summer to pass.

…

all he does is stare, for a second or two. attempting to find some humour in your voice, you assume, any signs that you might just be joking. but he doesn’t find it. uncharacterstically silent, gojo stays frozen in place.

then he puffs out a breath — amused.

”you wanna freeze to death?” he grins, and you can hear it in his voice. you turn to face him, almost smiling. a little cheeky.

”you’ll warm me up, no?”

the words fall from your lips before you can think to reel them in. meant to sound a little snarky, you think, something akin to a chuckle — but instead come out sounding a little too much like an honest request.

the tips of your ears feel a little warm, suddenly.

a sense of surprise smooths over the contours of gojo’s face, and his grin falters. you can’t see his eyes, can’t tell if they widen or not, but his lips part, and you note that they look soft.

and it’s back. that grin. toothy, boyish. his cheeks are rosy, from the chill of the air, or so you assume. then he’s taking a couple strides forward, broaching the distance between you.

he throws an arm over your shoulder. a heavy weight against you, grounding, causing you to stumble. friendly, tugging you close. into his orbit.

(no infinity, you note. you can feel his body heat seeping through the fabric.)

it's nice. he's tall, and he's warm. cozy, protecting you from the bitter cold, like your own personal furnace. no wonder suguru never catches any colds, with someone like this draped over him all the time.

gojo speaks. there’s a sweetness to his voice, a mellow kind of contentment; bubbling up like seafoam, spilling from his glossy lips. you can feel his warm breath on your skin.

”well, duh.”

when your gaze falls on him, he's already looking at you. leaning closer, sunglasses slipping a little further down the bridge of his nose — enough to expose the blue of his eyes, the tiny splotches of white scattered across his aquamarine iris. like a cracked marble. or a summer sea.

he’s speaking again, and you almost don't hear it. distracted by those cracked marbles, the strawberry red of his cheeks, the warmth shared between you. the pitter patter of your heartbeat, like waves crashing against the sand. mesmerized. not daring to look away. almost like you’d cease to exist, were he to close his eyes. like your existence hinges entirely on the blue of those eyes.

(and maybe it does.)

he nods towards the sea, and grins. a mischievous glint in his eyes. ”wanna take a dip?” he asks, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

it makes you laugh, either way.

”do you want to freeze to death?” you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. subtly angling your body closer to his, hoping he won’t notice.

gojo honest to god giggles, at that, and you fear your knees might give out beneath your weight. fuck, has he always had dimples? why are you only noticing them now?

”hehe. i just think it'd be fun!” he chirps, still draped over you like an overgrown cat, and you almost find yourself saying yes. just to keep the summer from ending, keep him from being swept away by the breeze.

but summer is ending. slipping away, second by second, like two juveniles drowned by an ocean wave. never to be found. and in comes autumn, the smell of rotting apples, the crunch of sand beneath your feet; an arm over your shoulder, an intake of breath. the taste of nice, crispy air on your tongue.

a chuckle flows from your lips. all you see before you is blue, a murky shade, a vibrant hue. you think you could drown in it. you’re not sure you’d mind.

”maybe next time,” you whisper.

gojo’s eyes widen. ever so slightly, barely enough to even notice, until they bloom — with a kind of bubbly excitement. unconcealed giddiness. there’s something awfully precious about it, like a child buying cotton candy at their first fair. it makes you want to tuck him into your pocket. keep him safe.

you like him, unfortunately. inevitably. you think you may even like him a lot, a little more than you should. a little more than he could reciprocate.

satoru gojo. high and mighty, cocky and cool. silly and bright. a seaborne boy with his very own orbit, born to carry the weight of the world, spinning so close that you can almost delude yourself into thinking he feels the same.

almost.

(gojo glances at your lips. he wonders if they’d taste as salty as the air.)

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d6volution · 6 months

Note

I like to imagine, if reader has a tail, then Caine likes to pull it a little. During sexy time or just like that.

yes definitely, hehe 🤭🤭

-------

Caine tuts, yanking you by the hips back towards him. Your hands unsuccessfully attempting to grab at the silky sheets of his bed, "Must you squirm so much, y/n? After all, this was your idea!" Caine made sure to say proudly, almost to tease you. You'd been begging him all day for attention, more specifically sexual attention.

"M'sorry... can't help it.." You whined, and tried to keep still as he lined up his thick cock with your entrance, your were dripping already. Making a mess of the bed beneath you, "My my, at least you were being honest. You're absolutely dripping! Ah.. whatever will I do you with you?" He hummed and the tip nudged at your entrance before slowly sliding inside causing your back to arch a little. Your body instinctively trying to crawl away from the large intrusion.

Unfortunately for you, Caine had also been a little pent up. Of course it isn't something he would admit to, but you were trying his patience. His gloved hand wrapped around the base of your tail and yanked your body back towards him. Causing a strangled moan to rip out of your throat. Goosebumps tickled your skin from the stimulation and Caine stared down at you with intrigue.

"C.. Caine..?" You mewled, face half buried in the sheets from embarrassment.

"Hm, what an interesting reaction.." He yanked again, and you moaned, shuddering beneath him.

"Ah, s.. senstive Caine..!" You whined , knuckles turing white at how hard you were clenching the sheets. Your cunt was still needy and aching, causing you to wiggle your hips a little.

He was so distracted he'd nearly forgotten! "Oh, silly me of course dear. I shouldn't keep you waiting!" So with another hard tug on your tail the ringmaster slammed his hips forward, his dick pummeling inside your cunt without anymore forewarning.

"Hhaa!! C .. Caine!!" You cried out , your cunt sucking him in happily allowing him to nestle against the deepest parts of you. He grunted above you , his long tongue along his teeth with delight.

You cry and whine, yet your pussy sucks him up without issue. What a cute mismatch he thought.

"Yes, dear?" He leaned over your arched form, his body flush against yours and his dick felt like it was nudging impossibly deep inside of you. Caine was right next to your face and took the chance to run his tongue along your neck. Causing you to shudder and tighten around him.

"What do we have here? It would seem very bit of you is senstive today." His voice was low and he finally began rocking his hips, he thrusted in and out at a moderate pace accompanied by your lewd juices.

"Mm..more.. Caine... faster.." You whined, already tormented by the slow pace. Your body was senstive yes but that didn't make it any less greedy..

"Quite demanding today aren't we? No matter my dear, I'll give you exactly what you want!" He said and pounded into you harder, his hold on your tail tightened to make sure your hips came slamming back onto him with just as much force.

It was like he was knocking the wind out of you— all you could do was take it, your mouth was agape as broken moans and pleas spilled from your lips but they fell on deaf ears. Caine kept up his pace. "Ngh.. yes.. there you go.. t-taking me so well..!" He grunted while fucking you into the mattress.

"Nnh.. Hhaa.. Caine, caine..! Feels good, s'good..! G.. Gonna..!" You babbled out as the already fragile knot in your stomach snapped and you gushed around his dick. Tightening up around him and causing his own hips to stutter a little at the sudden tightness. He couldn't help it , his balls tightened as he pumped his cum into your cunt.. you felt warm and fuzzy all over. Your head reeling.

"Ah.. seems we both needed that dear, it also lools like I found a fun weakness of yours!" He said and stroked your tail, his fingers trailing up your back.

You gave him a lopsided smile. "Mm.. don't take advantage of it too much.."

"Hm.. no promises, my love!"

#the amazing digital circus #ask #minors dni #tadc caine #the amazing digital circus caine #caine x reader smut

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idyllic-affections · 1 year

Text

out of all of the clouds in the sky, you are my favorite.

summary. imagine muichiro being the former tsuguko of the cloud hashira, [name].

trigger & content warnings. none applicable.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. muichiro tokito & hashira mentor!reader. 0.8k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. muichiro the beloved <3333 hes my favorite ever fr, he deserves so much happiness.

he adores his mentor so so much!! admittedly, he does show it in odd ways, but he really appreciates them in ways words cannot adequately describe.

when muichiro's on solo missions, he sends them little letters detailing the shapes he saw in the clouds. sometimes he even sends them shiny or textured rocks because he thought they would like them! it becomes very cute once one learns to understand his love language. he also gives them origami figures every now and then.

^ additionally, before their solo missions, he gives them origami cranes as a sort of good luck charm.

they have a history of becoming livid when the fragile things get crumpled by demons during missions. how dare they? that was a gift from their tsuguko, you know? they know the little paper cranes are easily replaced, and yet... it just makes them so sad to see them crushed.

the gifts he gives them are, for the most part, either handmade or non-traditional (rocks, a pretty shaped leaf, etc). sometimes he'll see something like a hairpin that he thinks they'd like, and so he buys it for them. any and every gift he gives them is appreciated, because just knowing that he remembers them better than almost anyone else and even thinks about them voluntarily is so heart-warming <3

he still calls them '[name]-sama,' even after he himself becomes a hashira. it's an improvement from '[surname]-sama,' sure, but they still insist he doesn't need to call them any such honorific anymore.

"[Name]-sama... that cloud, what's it called again?"

"I'm not your mentor anymore, Mui-kun," they commented with a little smile, hand raking gently through his silky hair. "You don't have to refer to me like that. It's okay to just call me [Name]. We're equals now, you know."

"No," he muttered his opposition, "you'll always be [Name]-sama to me."

"I only trained you for a brief... hmm, two months, was it? I'm not sure, but the point is that I trained you for a very short time."

"Doesn't matter."

"Hehe, I see. ...That's a cumulus cloud, by the way."

sometimes the two will cloud gaze together and just end up napping peacefully. both of them are light sleepers as a result of their job, but light doesn't necessarily mean restless.

mui associates them with the clouds—cloud breathing is their breath style, after all—and has often wondered about them when he cloud-gazes alone. are they okay? is their mission going well? is an annoying junior bothering them? he'll gladly tell them off if [name]-sama is too nice to.

he misses them a whole lot when they aren't around.

the mist hashira respects and trusts his mentor very deeply. he totally goes to them for like... everything.

cooking together is a very common thing for the duo; they love teaching him how to cook and bake and he loves learning. it reminds him of something he can't quite remember; simpler times, perhaps? they think it's very sweet that he's so willing to learn as long as they're the one teaching him.

they tend to his (minor) wounds, send him off on missions with snacks, braid his hair nicely so it stays out of his face... it's like he's been given a second chance at having a family. not that he remembers his first one, but still.

he sticks close to their side more often than not because of this.

muichiro is a little posessive of their attention, especially if they're doting on other junior demon slayers that are closer to his age (e.g., tanjiro, zenitsu, and inosuke). he gets a little jealous but takes great pride in being introduced as their former tsuguko. he's just worried they'll forget about him is all.

"silly mui-kun," they had once teased when they realized what was going on, "i'd never forget you. you don't need to be jealous; you're my favorite junior. ♡"

the other hashira find the attached behavior very endearing—he clings to them constantly, following them around like a lost puppy. it's moments like those in which the others are reminded that he's only a child that had his youth stolen from him far too early, so he subconsciously clings to the one person that really makes him feel safe and loved as every child should feel.

he accepts every gift from [name] with grace and humility. every single thing they give him is kept in pristine condition, even if it's a silly little trinket they picked up on one of their missions because "it's the same color as the ends of your hair, mui-kun." ridiculous!! ...what? he doesn't have to take it if he doesn't want it? no, back off, he's keeping it forever.

he especially loves all those silly gifts. knowing that someone he loves thought of him while they were away makes him all fuzzy and warm inside <33

[name] would be so protective of him. they know how many tsugukos shinobu has lost. to experience that... the thought alone makes them tremble with fear.

they're terrified that one day they might feel that pain too.

no-one will take their student from them, not when he's so young and has his entire life ahead of him. they will not allow it, even if it should cost them theirs.

#aphelion's headcanons 🌸#: [ the cloud hashira! 🌸 ]#platonic muichiro x reader #platonic demon slayer x reader #demon slayer x reader #muichiro x reader #muichiro tokito x reader #tokito muichiro x reader #kny x reader #platonic kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #platonic x reader

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vaspider · 1 year

Text

Aww lil buddy! I don't think you understand, cutie pie:

You're not getting your accounts repeatedly banned because I report you. You're getting your accounts repeatedly banned because you broke the rules. You actually can't just "use whatever social media you like" if the people running it say you're not welcome, my lil friend! You're banned because Tumblr doesn't want you here because you broke the rules by making new accounts to block dodge. You making any new accounts at all now that you've been banned? Breaking the rules! Penalty? Being banned, my very fragile and amusing dude!

You see, I told you in no uncertain terms that I never wanted to hear from you again, tiny sad man. But you just can't help yourself, because you're sad and lonely, and your life is devoid of actual meaning.

I know it really really really really really gets to you that I get to continue to hang out with the cool kids whose attention you desperately want while you're stuck frantically digitally masturbating into the void, probably as much as it bugs you to know that you're not talking to someone who hates guns -- I've written long and passionate defenses of hunting and went to a high school that had a rifle team, you silly little bean shart of a man -- and that this fat old tranny is dicking down not one but two hella fine wives on the regular. Sorry, bud!

My life is not consumed with giving a fuck about you. @athingofvikings and I just laugh at you for as long as it takes to block you -- literally 10 seconds and 5 screen-taps -- make bets on which goofy lil attempt at a name you'll use next, and then go back to chatting about how cute our pets are.

You're not an eagle or a rock, my lil vurp of a person. You are the ant on the shower curtain I washed down the drain yesterday: just as easily dealt with and thought about just as much once you're gone.

😘 big old fat tranny kisses to you, but no more attention for your public humiliation kink, okay? If you make me expend effort on that, it costs money.

#block list #unredated slurs

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mlmxreader · 6 months

Text

Cat Person | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ "I think if you stay, something bad will happen. I think I might hurt you. You don't want to get hurt, do you?" lipbite I see werewolf! Ghost potential here. (0_0) The tension…. ❞

: ̗̀➛ when Simon returns, he's different, strange. He's shutting you out and you don't know why.

: ̗̀➛ body horror, gore, monsters, swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Simon had been distant, far too distant, and although you did your best to try and win him back, to try and make up for whatever mistake you had made, he just wasn’t responding; conversations that were once long and full of dry, sarcastic humour were now little more than an “alright?” followed by a curt nod before he disappeared again.

You didn’t understand it in the slightest, wondering what you had done wrong. Wondering how you had hurt him so badly that he wouldn’t even look at you anymore. Had you really been so cruel to him without knowing?

Had you really hurt him so bad without noticing?

Nobody could help you, either, and even Gaz - your own step brother - didn’t have a clue what was going on; although he did admit that Simon’s mood had been soured with everyone lately, not just you.

Ever since Simon had returned from the arête of Crib Goch, something had soured him on everybody; he was moody, didn’t sleep much, constantly sweating like he had a fever and it never mattered how much he washed and put deodorant on, he still stank something awful.

He was irritable, snappy and snippy all the same; he was… different.

There was something in his eyes that was different, odd; Price had said it could have been because of the animal attack, but everyone was more than confused by that - there were no large animals at Crib Goch, not unless someone put them there on purpose.

Maybe a private collector who didn’t find any care for them anymore, maybe escapees from a zoo but… but if that had happened, there would have been news reports, and no one had seen such a thing.

There was something that Simon wasn’t telling everyone, and it was both jarring and worrisome; but as his partner, you thought he would have so much as tried to talk to you, not just completely brushed you off.

But Simon would never tell anyone what had happened on that arête, he could never, it was too unbelievable, too silly of a story and he wasn’t even entirely sure it had happened anyway.

Sure, his memory up until after the attack was clear enough, but that wasn’t good enough; Simon knew that the human mind could play tricks to protect itself - making him watch himself do things, feeling like he wasn’t actually solid matter or that the people around him weren’t actually real.

He had experienced all of that ten times over, he was no stranger to the lengths the human brain would go to to try and protect itself, to try and cope with trauma.

He wasn’t fucking stupid; he knew that positive psychotic symptoms, derealisation, dissociation - they could all happen after events like what he had been through.

But even he couldn’t be absolutely sure about what had happened.

But it did seem… so real. It really did.

He was going along the pyg track, painfully aware of the fragility of certain rocks to his left as he trudged on forward; he could feel something watching him, but at the time, he had assumed that it was little more than a bird of prey nearby searching for a mouse or something, he didn’t think much of it.

Crib Goch was a relatively safe place, no human would have followed him at least; yet there had been several sightings lately, all within the Yr Wyddfa area… big wild cats, pumas and the like. Simon didn’t believe them all too much, chalking it down to the human mind playing tricks; it was probably just a stray dog or something, if anything.

But something had been watching him on that track, something had been following him. Had he known then what he knew now, he would have turned around and ran back to the car.

He didn’t make it more than another metre, before something thudded into his back, pinning him down with heavy round hands, more like paws really.

A ghastly growl echoing through the dark skies before something bit down on his leg, a set of sharp and pointed teeth, tearing through his muscle tissue with ease; he had called out, squirming and doing his best to fight whatever was attacking him - his free leg hit something heavy, and he managed to wriggle forward before grabbing the leg of whatever was at his back and throwing it as hard as he could.

He had no idea what the fuck he had seen, all he caught a glimpse of was something… on all fours. But that could have been because of anything.

But since then, there had been some… strange goings on. Things that the doctors and GPs he saw couldn’t explain. Constant sweating, like he had a fever. Yet his body temperature was always normal when they took it.

Itching deep within his bones all over his body, so hard to ignore that it hurt when he didn’t scratch at it; his arms littered with deep, yellow scabs that were so thick they cracked open and let out spurts of blood when he bent his arms.

His joints ached, as if they were trapped by the flesh of his body.

He couldn’t sleep during the night, like his natural body clock had somehow reversed itself completely without him knowing. He craved meat constantly, even the mere mention of blood making his stomach growl loudly; it didn’t matter how much he ate… and his teeth.

Oh, how his teeth stung and sharply throbbed, like they were trying to push themselves out of his mouth constantly. Yet, the dentist could not find a cause; considering his lack of dental treatment due to his finances, his teeth were good. There was no reason that his teeth should have hurt like that.

He was constantly overwhelmed by everything; scents were much stronger, much more harsh on his nose and made him easily wince. Lights of all kinds hurt his eyes, making them sting. Every texture felt awful.

Home alone for the night, as you were helping Gaz move into his new flat and you were going to spend the night so that you could have a film night like you used to when you were children, Simon couldn’t rest.

Something felt… wrong. His stomach kept squirming, moving around the cavern beneath his ribs constantly, refusing to settle. He could hear his heartbeat hammering in his chest, loud and faster than usual. He was out of breath, sweating profusely even though he had long ago stripped down to nothing and opened all the windows.

He could feel his heart throbbing in his throat, making him sit in still silence for a moment as he swallowed thickly and wondered what the fuck was going on; maybe it was dehydration, he wondered, but when he dared to stand, he was quickly brought to his knees as a shooting pain coursed through every single nerve and muscle in his body.

His teeth.

They were stretching, cracking loudly as they forced themselves to elongate. The front four, so sharp that they poked into his chin like needles. The back, shorter but wider.

His gums bled, forcing him to spit a puddle of bile-laced blood onto the floor as he whimpered softly, reaching up to cup his jaw as he cried softly. Blood trickled from his teeth, forcing him to weep as he wished for it to end. Agony.

He got no relief, though, as his skull creaked and ground against itself harshly, becoming more oval shaped, a blunt muzzle sitting at the end of his face; he wanted to scream, but it came out as mere garbles and chokes. His head was throbbing, but at least the teeth weren’t digging into his chin anymore.

His fingers twisted and curled, the bones pulsing through the flesh with ease, rendering the muscles and skin limp and lifeless. His hands were shaking as his fingers sunk into themselves slightly at the mid finger knuckles, the bones falling black and dead onto the floor with a soft clatter; his hands didn’t even look like hands anymore, rounded and resembling something more like an animal than an ape.

Yet, at the mid finger knuckles, something sharp and scathing pushed through from where the dead bones were; coated in something sticky and slick, they dug into the floor, leaving long scratch marks where Simon struggled against every single change.

He collapsed onto his side, sobbing pitifully as his legs and arms twisted and rippled, lengthening; his shoulder blades rested further towards his spine. His legs moved so that the bones would no longer allow him to walk upright. Forced to walk like a beast.

He wept. He wanted to die.

His ears crunched as they moved upwards, the top of his skull. Something hard and long ripped through his lower back, making him buck and wriggle as he tried to get away from it. Simon was running out of breath, running out of the will to keep going as he sighed and tried to catch his breath.

His eyes squished and squelched, becoming rounder, once dark brown, now harsh yellow. Silently, Simon prayed for death. For it all to end. But it wouldn’t. Something light and stringy licked at the undersides of his skin, making him itch terribly as he squirmed to try and find some relief.

Small stinging nettles slowly pushing through his skin, flicking bits of blood across the floor as they did so. It was a yellowish brown colour on one side, almost white on the other; the backs of his ears were black with a singular white spot in the middle of each. Splodges of black formed circles across his body, containing bits of brown inside of them.

It seemed like hours before Simon could actually move again, every joint and every muscle aching and sharply stinging; he kept trying to stand up, but all it did was cause long scratch marks to become embedded on the surfaces he tried to pull himself up on.

He managed to make it to the hallway, and a sharp gargle left the back of his throat when he saw his appearance in the mirror; no, no, no, no. It wasn’t real.

No. No, it couldn’t have been. No. Such things didn’t exist, absolutely not.

He was just dreaming. Yeah, that was it - he was just dreaming. He paced around, trying to find various ways of waking himself up; running headfirst into the door, slamming his already painful muzzle into the cupboards.

But nothing worked. Nothing was fucking working.

He gave up, curling up on the sofa as he decided that, maybe, if he fell asleep in his nightmare, he would wake up.

The flick of a lightswitch made him stand up, a harsh growl from the back of his throat as he dug into the soft cushions of the sofa; he never made that sound before. He never remembered the sofa cushions ever being so easily torn through.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, staring at the beast on your sofa. “What the fuck is this shit?!”

Simon tilted his head to the side, then looked down at the sofa cushions; his feet were the way they had been when he fell asleep, and those awful and long claws were embedded in the sofa cushions. He shook his head, no.

No, no, no, no, no. No.

He looked at you, a deep and frantic chuffing noise coming from his throat even though he was hoping that he could actually form words; you looked horrified, but he continued to try, the noise becoming louder and louder.

Fuck it.

He leapt off of the sofa, headed into the bedroom and went straight for the drawer; using his maw, he managed to drag it open, and easily picked up what he was looking for.

He had bought it for you a long time ago, and knew that you would know it was him. He dropped it at your feet, then took a few steps back as you picked it up.

Examining it, you chewed at your bottom lip, and then glared over at the beast. “Si… Simon?”

He nodded.

“Oh, what the fuck?!” You sounded exhausted. “Every day is some new fucking bullshit with you lot, I swear - first, Gaz ends up being called back to our family’s house because there’s a fucking leak and he knows about plumbing, so my film night was fucking ruined! Then! I come home and find my fucking boyfriend is - what? A fucking panther?!”

Another chuffing sound, and you glared at him.

“You think this is funny?!” You scoffed. A nod. “Simon, you’re a fucking bastard.”

You scoffed, shaking your head; but you allowed Simon to stay close, still a little on edge to have a whole fucking big cat right at your side, but if you were honest?

When you fell asleep cuddled into him like a big teddy bear, you slept like a baby. You trusted him enough to fall asleep like that, cuddled into him knowing that he wouldn’t hurt you; but Simon felt differently.

He didn’t trust himself, didn’t trust his new instincts and didn’t trust what was happening to him. He couldn’t. There was no telling what he would do to you - he was a beast, a wild animal. He couldn’t trust himself.

He slipped away before you woke up, leaving you alone and cold amongst the duvet and pillows, hoping that he could get far enough from you; but it only took a couple of hours before you found him again, naked as the day he was born and sitting at the riverbank. You frowned, setting a bag between his legs and nudging him gently.

“I figured you could use these… I noticed your shit was all over our floors…”

Simon hummed, shaking his head. “You should go.”

“Why?”

“Because I think if you stay, something bad will happen,” he said quietly, roughly. “I think I might hurt you. You don’t want to get hurt, do you?”

You shook your head, sitting down beside him and resting your head on his shoulder as you looked out at the river. “Simon… I love you. I trust you. I know you’d never hurt me, even by accident… I’m your partner for a reason. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I could kill you,” he muttered.

“I don’t care,” you hummed. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

Reluctantly, Simon opened the bag, and quickly grabbed the clothes; he was getting cold, and the scabs and scars littering his body were starting to turn a lightish purple colour. But when he sat back down, he kept his distance from you, and shook his head. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Simon,” you sighed, daring to move a little closer. “I sleep next to you every night. I stand behind you while you’re cooking. I sit next to you at the dinner table every time. You’ve never so much as accidentally flicked me… do you really think I think you’d hurt me?”

“I can’t trust myself.”

“You trust me though, don’t you?” You asked, and when he nodded slowly, you dared to smile. “So trust me now… please? Even just a little bit?”

“Okay,” he agreed quietly.

“Don’t shut me out again,” you told him, shaking your head a little. “Please?”

Simon nodded again. “I just never thought you were a cat person.”

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dollywony · 2 years

Note

Hi gorgeous!! I was wondering if you could do a yandere miles x f! Reader if you’re comfortable but it’s fine if you’re not!! 💞💞 also could I be 🩰 anon if you take anons??

so pretty - m.f

pairing(s): miles x reader & reader x s/o

summary: being chased around by a man who just killed your friend doesn’t sound like how you wanted to end your evening.

a/n: hi ml!! ive never written anything about yanderes so take this as you please 🫶 + ofc you can be 🩰 anon <3 + i do not mean to romanticize this in anyway, it is purely fiction!

warnings: yandere themes, cursing, mentions of murder

wc: 1.6k+

You pant, frantically running away from the man who’s holding a knife you can’t help but think it’s been a hectic fucking month. First your best friend is shot right in front of your eyes, next the same fucker who shot your friend is chasing you with a dangerously sharp knife.

Fuck who even was this dude? What did he want from you? You spun around, picked up a nearby rock and flung it at him. Not even sparing him a glance you ran. You ran until you felt as if your lungs were going to fail you.

As you tried to catch your breath, you dashed behind an enormous tree. You didn’t want to die, you barely lived your life. And what about your boyfriend? You loved him too much. Fuck what if you didn’t make it out alive? How would he react?

You heard leaves crunching under the thick boots this murderer had on. He was near. Your palms were clammy. Were you going to die tonight? Was this it?, You thought, eyes watering up at the thought. As you closed your eyes and tried to call yourself down with breathing methods everything went silent.

“Did he leave? God I hope he did.” You muttered underneath your breath, so quietly you barely heard it yourself. However this wasn’t the same for him.

He had gone quiet, hoping you would come out. And indeed you did. He heard your silly little prayers. He couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. His Y/n was always too gullible. You reminded him of a puppet. No, scratch that, a doll. An unused doll, a porcelain doll that was fragile and needed someone to help her. And that person was him. Only he could help you.

You heard him chuckle. You thought it sounded familiar but shrugged it off, blaming it on your nerves. He was still here. Shit, did he hear you? When you were lost in your thoughts, the man charged at you.

Your eyes shot up, alarmed only to be knocked down by the man who had tackled you to refrain you from moving. You screams weren’t heard as he had slapped his hand over your mouth.

“Shut that fucking mouth up before I shove a knife down it.” The man’s voice came out, rough. Your screams had gone instantly silent hearing those words come out of his mouth.

“Good girl.” he complimented, knife in hand to know that his threat wasn’t empty. You told yourself over and over in your head that this wasn’t real, this was all a nightmare. A nightmare that felt too realistic. Oh for goodness sake, who were you trying to fool? You knew that this could either be the end of your life or a start of a very twisted one.

As the masked man starts to slowly pull something out his bag, he tuts, “Y/n.. you know staring at someone is bad.” It was as if he was scolding a child.

“How do you know my name?” Your voice came out, small. Fuck. You were terrified. First this man fucking kills your bestfriend, then he tackles me, and he knows my name?

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, alright?” He hummed, revealing ropes of thick long rope that had spilled out of his bag. Just what was he planning on doing?

“Can I at least get a name?” You whimpered out, back aching from the position you were in. “Oh Y/n you already know me! You don’t recognize me?” He exclaims, imitating a sniffle.

“Well if you don’t, wouldn’t you like to know?,” he uttered out. “You were always too nosy for your good. Never liked that about you really.” Snorts of amusement coming from under the mask.

Your eyes went down immediately, filled with embarrassment with his comments. His hand jerked to grab your chin rather roughly, forcing eye contact. Well, that’s what you assumed he saw. You felt his smirk through the mask. Fucker.

“Don’t be shy Y/n! It’s alright no one’s around to hear anything.” You could practically hear the glee in his voice. As it was obvious that you weren’t going to attempt to talk to him, he sighed.

He got up off of you, you were relieved yet confused why he did so. But just as those thoughts were let loose. You felt the thick rope circling you continuously. Shit. You were done for.

When he was content with his work, he took a step back and broke out into a fit of giggles. It was so amusing to him, seeing her all scared and teary eyed. He had gotten something he finally wanted. He craved her. He craved seeing those tears dripping down her oh so beautiful face, pleading him to stop.

“Fine,” he huffed out, tired of your silence. “If you want to know who I am so badly, I’ll let you see for yourself.” The rage in ripping off the detailed mask was no shock compared to who lied behind it.

Fucking Miles. The boy you rejected in junior year. He was cool about it, saying it was alright. That was before he had stormed off into the boys bathroom, returning with blood stained hands, ignoring people’s stares.

Suspiciously, you had no choice but to cross him off the list as a suspect to whoever was sending you those creepy letters as he stopped pursuing you. Guess you were wrong.

Those creepy letters holding creepy messages. “I love you so much Y/n, you know your strawberry shampoo really makes you smell nice.” and “I know you’re afraid of the dark Y/n, don’t worry I’ll be around to help you my darling.” were just a few of many horrendous letters.

“Miles?” You said, baffled seeing him. “That’s right darling.” He said, tossing the mask god knows where. “You know Y/n, I thought you would’ve gotten the clue. I always get what I want,” He spoke, grasping you by the collar of your shirt. “And I want you Y/n. I love you so so much. I’ll love you until the day I die. If you die, I’ll die as well.”

“M-Miles.. I don’t really know what to say..,” you spluttered out. “My answer is still the same Miles I’m so sor-” “Why won’t you love me?” Miles spat out, cutting you off. He started to shake you aggressively. “Just why? Am I that unlovable? Am I unattractive? Is there anything I can fix about myself?” Miles babbled on, letting the grip on your shirt loose.

“Miles- Miles,” you spoke up, attracting his attention. “Miles. You know why I don’t love you? It’s because-” you suddenly gasped as he placed the tip of the knife onto your chin, as if it was edging you to go on.

“Hmm?,” Miles edged on. “Go on darling, tell me.” He finished off, pressing the knife down knowing if he went any deeper he’d leave a cut.

You went silent. You knew if you said anything you’d probably end up dead, for this was Miles last straw. If you blew it, god knows what would happen.

“That’s right pretty, I know you didn’t have anything against me. Empty words hurt you know Y/n? I know you didn’t mean it but still.” Miles said, holding a look that mocked sadness.

“C'mon love speak to me. I’m not that mean.,” Miles pouted, slowly bringing the knife down to his side. “You know this is because I love you so so much.” Miles babbled, caressing your hair.

“Miles, if you let me go, I won't tell anyone. I promise.” You whispered, slowly pulling your head up. “Please Miles, please please.” You muttered over and over like a mantra. You were desperate and wanted to escape. Fuck you would even keep your word. You wouldn’t tell anyone if you would live.

“No, no, no you’re lying.” he mumbled under his breath. “Stop lying to me!” Miles shouted at your face, spit splattering onto your face. Fuck thats nasty.

“Miles i swear to fucking god please i wont ever..” you trailed off, stopping mid sentence as Miles turned his attention to his bag. He was digging in his bag, tossing things that weren't his desired object. Curses and pleads continuously split from him.

For a moment he stopped. He stopped and turned around with the biggest smirk on his face holding a rag. A wet rag in fact. What the fuck was that dosed in?, You thought. Was this really going to be your last moment? Spent in the woods with Miles fucking Fairchild.

You stared at him as he approached with his long limbs, stomping against the dirt filled ground. Once he bent down to you, he didn’t hesitate on muffling you with the rag. You screamed and screamed but you were helpless. Your cries weren’t heard by anyone other than Miles. In fact, he looked as if he enjoyed it. Sick fucker.

Your lids felt heavy. Shit. as Miles felt content at what he was looking at, he lifted the rag, throwing it god knows where. “Fuck you Miles.” you spit at him with all the power you had in your body before you felt your consciousness slipping from you. Gazing above you, you saw Miles grasping your hands with such fragility, as if you were going to break any second. “Miles you’ll regret this so much..” you stuttered off, chloroform kicking in letting the chances of you staying away strand you.

“So, so pretty.” Miles lavished, admirably gazing your body out cold. He heaved your body off the cold ground, carrying you as if you were a baby. ``Let's go home now, hmm?” Miles questioned your unconscious body knowing he wouldn’t get a response. It made him feel joyful. You were finally his. And you were only his. Forever.

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